


Almost There

by metafictionally



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 14:47:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1714442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metafictionally/pseuds/metafictionally
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>When Zitao asked Sehun to help her study for their mid-year English examinations, this was definitely not what she had in mind.</i> Girls AU. Warnings: Tribadism, unsafe sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almost There

**Author's Note:**

> LMFAO JESUS FUCKING CHRIST BYE
> 
>  **warnings/kinks:** tribadism, unsafe sex (?!)

When Zitao asked Sehun to help her study for their mid-year English examinations, this was definitely not what she had in mind.

What she had been imagining was actual studying—books out, maybe snacks and drinks, poring over flashcards and quiz answers and mock exams until their eyes crossed and they fell asleep on top of each other. That's how their previous study sessions have gone—it's not like Zitao didn't have a precedent for her expectations.

What she gets, instead, is Sehun pressing her back against the pillows of Sehun's bed and kissing a hot, wet trail up her jaw. She bites down in the soft space just below Zitao's ear and sucks, hard—Zitao's sure there'll be a mark there tomorrow, one she'll have to cover with foundation. That's okay. Zitao can live with that.

"This is what I get," Zitao mumbles against Sehun's throat, "for asking you to help me study."

Actually, this is what Zitao gets for getting drunk and making out with Sehun in a closet at the party Baekhyun had thrown last week. Before that, the sexual tension between the two of them had been a low simmer, ignorable if Zitao worked hard enough. They were in the same class, but they sat two desks apart, plenty of distance for Zitao to ignore Sehun's existence. After, though—after Sehun had pushed her into the closet, then pushed her up against the wall and slid her thigh between Zitao's—just a side glance from Sehun had been nearly enough to make Zitao want to shove her hand between her legs. So, yeah, this shouldn't have been a surprise.

Sehun laughs, a surprisingly sweet sound for such a sassy mouth, and pulls back to look down at Zitao. Her ponytail hangs over her shoulder, and Zitao gives in to the desire to thread her fingers through it and take hold. "We could study if you want," she says, pressing her lips together, and then adds in English, "You could probably use it—"

Zitao probably could, but that doesn't mean she wants to.

Instead, she leans up and kisses Sehun again, the fingertips of her free hand tracing up the lean muscle of the outside of Sehun's thigh, until Zitao's hand is flirting with the hem of Sehun's uniform skirt. Sehun likes to wear it rolled, until the hem barely brushes mid-thigh—like this, it seems even shorter, and it doesn't take that much more until Zitao's fingers reach the fabric of Sehun's panties. 

They haven't really talked about it, up until this point. Zitao had dropped her backpack on the floor and then practically fallen onto Sehun's bed, and when she'd rolled over, Sehun had been there, looking at her with pointed intent. That was it—there was no conversation. And that's why Zitao hesitates, pulling away from Sehun's mouth to look up at her with a question in her eyes.

"I swear to god, Huang Zitao," Sehun says, all but glaring down at Zitao. "Don't you dare stop now."

"Yes, ma'am," Zitao says with a relieved laugh, and pushes Sehun backwards onto the mattress.

It's easy enough to get Sehun out of her skirt, but Zitao doesn't hurry after that. She'd much rather savor the experience, every little quiver as she kisses her way up the inside of Sehun's thighs. Her skin is pale and so soft, the tops of her thighs covered in a light dusting of hair from where Sehun had been too lazy to shave. "Don't tease," Sehun demands, as though she expects Zitao to listen, but she still lets Zitao press her thighs a little further apart, so Zitao takes the command to be halfhearted at best.

Moving a little further up Sehun's right thigh, Zitao nips gently at the skin just to feel Sehun jump. She can tell how turned on Sehun is—the crotch of her panties is wet, and when Zitao presses her nose into the crease of Sehun's thigh, she can almost taste the heavy musk of Sehun's arousal. It's hotter than Zitao would ever have been able to imagine, and for a second, resisting the urge to pull Sehun's panties to the side and lick her clean is the most difficult thing Zitao has ever done.

Sehun's fingers running through Zitao's bangs brings her back to her present task, though, and Zitao chuckles softly at herself before moving to lick a line along the crease of Sehun's other thigh, then resume her kissing down the length of it. 

"You're fucking unbelievable," Sehun says, squirming a little, her thighs tensing against Zitao's shoulders.

"You don't know yet," Zitao replies. She's fairly sure she left a word out, somewhere—an _anything_ , maybe, or maybe she was going for _you haven't_ seen _anything_ —but more important is the flat plain of Sehun's stomach when Zitao shifts upward to kiss just above the waistband of Sehun's underwear. Sehun's skin is so soft, everywhere, and part of Zitao just wants to do this all evening—kiss all over Sehun's body, learning every curve and crease and knob of bone, and maybe ( _maybe_ ) then Zitao would fuck Sehun, but only when she was satisfied that her explorations had charted every inch of Sehun's body.

It's a pretty good idea. Zitao files it away for the future, and instead unbuttons Sehun's blouse one button at a time, leaving open-mouthed kisses over each inch of skin it exposes.

Sehun's chest is heaving by the time Zitao undoes the final button, and the flush on her cheeks spreads all the down her throat and over the top of her chest. "You're so gorgeous," Zitao says—partly observation but mostly awe, because Oh Sehun is nothing if not beautiful, but she's never been _this_ hot.

"Shut up," Sehun snaps, her cheeks flushing even pinker. Zitao hadn't even thought that was possible. "Stop staring, you creep—"

Her words cut off abruptly as Zitao slides one hand into Sehun's bra, cupping her breast and thumbing over her nipple. Zitao has large hands, long fingers, and Sehun's tits are small and perky and perfectly suited to her palm—so cute that it makes Zitao giggle delightedly, even as each of Sehun's bitten-back gasps sends another spark of heat pulsing between her legs.

"I love your boobs," Zitao says, leaning down to press kisses against Sehun's chin and lower lip. "They're perfect."

Sehun groans—it sounds like half arousal and half embarrassment. "Don't talk," she says, reaching up to cover her face with one hand. "You're so embarrassing, Zitao."

Maybe Sehun is embarrassed, but Zitao's shameless—she doesn't feel like there's anything to be embarrassed _about_ , since she's just calling it like it is. But for now, she keeps her mouth shut, at least long enough to work her hands underneath Sehun and deftly undo her bra. Sehun blushes again when Zitao pulls the garment off, her nipples hardening in the cooler air of her bedroom, and Zitao follows the spreading pink with her mouth until she can take one of Sehun's nipples in her mouth and suck.

" _Fuck_ ," Sehun gasps, her back arching. Zitao likes the way she reacts, her thighs spreading a little to let Zitao settle more easily between them—against Zitao's thigh, she can feel the dampness of Sehun's panties, and is honestly a little astounded that she's managed to hold back this long. Zitao should be winning awards for self-restraint, tonight. "Fuck, Zitao, do that again—"

Zitao does, and rubs her thumb over the peak of Sehun's other nipple as she does, earning a choked groan and a shudder for her efforts. So Sehun's nipples are sensitive. Good to know—another piece of information to file away in the back of Zitao's mind. 

It occurs to Zitao, as she pulls away from Sehun's chest, that she's still wearing her entire uniform, and the fabric suddenly feels restricting, almost suffocating. "Don't move," she tells Sehun, and pulls back enough to remove her blouse and wiggle out of her skirt. After a thoughtful pause, she slips out of her underwear too, discarding them in an ungraceful heap on the floor of Sehun's bedroom. She leaves the knee socks, though—recalls one time in phys ed when, in the locker room, Sehun had given Zitao's legs a once-over and made a too-loud comment about _zettai ryouiki_ that Zitao hasn't been able to forget.

When Zitao turns back to Sehun, Sehun has her hand shoved inside her underwear, fingers moving deliberately. It's hot, but it also runs counter to Zitao's plans, so she catches Sehun's wrist and pulls her hand away, ignoring Sehun's disgruntled noise. "Nope," she says, shaking her head.

"You're so—" Sehun wrinkles her nose, curling her fingers in the sheets. "I don't think I like you anymore."

It's such an empty threat that Zitao laughs, just before she hooks her fingers in Sehun's panties to pull them down over slim thighs. She likes the view, the paleness of Sehun's thighs, the pink marks that Zitao's teeth left on the insides of them. Zitao slides her hands up the insides of Sehun's thighs and presses them open, her thumbs digging into soft flesh.

"Wow," Zitao says, glancing up at Sehun's face. Sehun's cheeks are bright pink, and they only turn pinker. Sehun is so wet, and Zitao feels an answering rush of heat between her own thighs, and a definite increase in urgency pulsing through her.

"Can you stop with the running commentary and just fuck me already?" Sehun demands, pushing herself up on her elbows and glaring down at Zitao. "If you won't, I can just do it myself—"

"Nope," Zitao says again, reaching down to press her thumb firmly against Sehun's clit.

It's still teasing, sort of, but it seems to do the trick for now—Sehun shudders and drops back to the mattress, her hips pushing down toward Zitao's hand. It's surprising, how responsive Sehun is, how easy she seems under Zitao's touch—Sehun always seems so collected and cold that seeing her like this, panting and squirming a little, is almost shocking. But Zitao likes it, a lot, as a matter of fact. She likes the little noises Sehun makes when Zitao's thumb rubs small, tight circles over her clit, the way Sehun's thighs tighten and the quiver in her stomach muscles.

"Want more?" Zitao asks, and Sehun nods, breathing heavy through her nose.

Settling between Sehun's thighs, Zitao spreads Sehun open with her thumbs and licks a broad stripe up her cunt, ending with a flick of her tongue over Sehun's clit that makes Sehun jump and swear under her breath. She tastes just as good as she smells, all heavy heat and musk, and Zitao makes a pleased sound as she does it again. Two nights ago, Zitao had dreamed about this, about going down on Sehun until Sehun begged and cried Zitao's name. She's not sure that the real Sehun would beg, but Zitao sure can try.

"Jesus, your fucking tongue," Sehun pants, as Tao sucks lightly at her clit, tongue working over the swollen nub of it. "Fuck, Tao, come on—"

It's obvious that Sehun wants more than just the focus on her clit, but Zitao has _plans_. Her own cunt is throbbing, her breasts aching with how fucking turned on she is, but Zitao wants to draw it out, and she has an idea that she can't quite get out of her head. So no, it's not going to be that easy.

Still, Zitao's not that mean, so she spreads Sehun's thighs and then straddles one of them, pressing her cunt right up against Sehun's and rocking her hips insistently. It's clearly not what Sehun's expecting—her eyes snap open and she gasps, her hands finding Zitao's hips immediately and pulling her even closer. "Holy shit," Sehun says, her voice a little choked as she rolls her hips up to meet Zitao's. "Holy shit, Tao."

Zitao just grins and reaches down to spread Sehun open with her fingers, pressing their clits together and rocking her hips in tight circles. There's a lot she wants to say, but Korean is hard right now, harder than it normally is—Zitao stumbles over her words even when she's just nervous, so right now, it would be hopeless. So she says it in Mandarin instead, "You're so hot, Sehun-ah, you feel so good, I wanna eat you out until you come all over my fingers," and Sehun moans and her hips stutter up against Zitao's.

"I have no idea what you're saying," she admits, her thumbs digging hard into Zitao's hips. "But I like it, keep talking."

So Zitao does. She says all kinds of things she doesn't even know how to say in Korean—things like how she wants to fuck Sehun over and over, how she wants to tie Sehun to the bed and make her come over and over until she can't come anymore. Zitao says shit she wouldn't even want to say to Sehun's face, stuff that she can only get out because she knows Sehun doesn't understand a word of it.

Sehun comes first. Zitao sees it coming—Sehun starts going tense, her head tilted back into the pillow and throat working as she tries to swallow. Her moans start gaining pitch until it's like she's whimpering, and even though Sehun doesn't beg, she does demand—" _Harder_ , fuck me, Tao, _fuck me_ "—until she shudders and gasps, and Zitao feels the hot rush of her come against her own cunt. It's enough to startle Zitao into orgasm as well, and she curls into herself, hips stuttering against Sehun's until the waves of pleasure fade and leave Zitao's skin buzzing pleasantly.

"Oh, man," Sehun says, sounding awed and all kinds of hazy. 

"Not done," Zitao says, once she gathers the words. Pushing her sweaty hair back out of her face, Zitao moves off of Sehun and settles between her legs again, running two of her fingers up the length of Sehun's cunt and flicking over her clit. She's still sensitive, that much is obvious by the way Sehun's whole body jerks. 

"Zitao," Sehun whines. She squirms halfheartedly, but she doesn't make any real attempt to get away—and when Zitao presses her fingers down on Sehun's clit again, she shudders, but spreads her legs a little wider. "Mm…"

"Again?" Zitao says. She leans down to lick up Sehun's cunt, then glances up at Sehun, sucking lightly at her clit.

A pause, and then Sehun groans, closing her eyes. "Yeah," she says, "yeah. Okay."

This is what Zitao has been working up to. She grins and presses a kiss to Sehun's thigh, then slips two fingers into her, thrusting in slow motions and keeping them a little curved. It's hot and slick and sexy as hell, and Zitao loves the way Sehun rolls her hips down into Zitao's hands, whining slightly and curling her fingers in the sheets. "Good?" Zitao asks, straddling Sehun's right thigh again to get a better angle.

Sehun groans and cracks her eyes open to look at Zitao. "Don't ask me questions," she says, the words carried on a breathless laugh. "Yeah, it's good, you nut."

Pressing her hand to Sehun's lower stomach, just above the dark hair between her thighs, Zitao grins and leans her weight onto it, holding Sehun's hips still. "Good," she says, curving her fingers up even more and picking up the pace of her thrusts. Her fingers press firmly up inside Sehun's cunt, stroking deliberately over her g-spot, and Zitao can tell Sehun is frustrated—she keeps trying to arch against Zitao's hand and finds herself unable, and resorts to scrubbing her hands through her hair instead, messing up her ponytail. "God, you're awful," she groans, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. "Fuck, Tao—right there—"

 _Right there_ is easy when it makes Sehun's entire body tense, her thighs trembling every time Zitao strokes her fingers over the spot. Watching Sehun come undone is probably the sexiest thing Zitao has ever seen, her skin damp with sweat, hair sticking to her neck and collarbones. Thank god for Baekhyun's parties and a few too many shots.

Sehun starts chanting her name when she gets close, interspersed with curses and panted sounds that probably weren't words at all. Reaching down, she hooks her fingers around her own thigh and pulls it up a bit, her other hand slipping between her legs to touch herself. " _Fuck_ fuck fuck," Sehun gasps, "Tao, fuck," her fingertips digging into her own thigh, nails leaving crescents behind—

She comes, squirting hot over Zitao's fingers and hand, with a cry so loud Zitao's sure the neighbors can hear. It's honestly the sexiest thing Zitao has ever seen, Sehun's body writhing, hips riding Zitao's fingers until her cunt stops clenching and the tremors subside a little. "Holy shit," Sehun gasps, sprawling out all over the bed as soon as Zitao pulls her hand away. "That was so much better than studying for English."

Zitao glances down at the wet spot Sehun made and grins. "Yeah, way more fun," she says, bracing herself over Sehun's body. She leans down and kisses Sehun, first her lower lip and then her upper, tongue tracing slow and indulgent along the seam of her mouth before easing inside. 

"So," Sehun says when they pull apart, blinking lazily up at Zitao. "An hour of English, then it's my turn."

"Oh," Zitao says. "I think I like that idea."


End file.
